Monday, February 13, 2012


When I was alone in my Father's house, trying to comprehend the unfathomable event of his death, I did not want to hear any more words, condolences and "call me if you need anything." These words, though probably said with good intentions, rang hollow after receiving them one after the other. I wanted music. I just wanted to listen to music. Only music could understand and address the agony in my soul.

The sympathy cards, bought from Walgreens for $2.50, did nothing.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Father died

My Father died Monday, January 30th at 7:30pm in the ICU at Corona Regional Hospital. I was there when he died; it is the first death I've ever witnessed. I tried talking to him as I held his hand but he never regained consciousness.

After his death I had to immediately talk with the Coroner's Office about the details of his accident and surgery and with the mortician about releasing the body for delivery to the crematorium.

This was the worse week of my life. There are things I wanted to say to my Father, things I wanted to ask him about his life, and the chance to do this is gone forever.